


Forest Painting

by CravenWyvern



Series: Failed Step One [2]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Allusions To Many Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, Gen, Spider Handling, That will not be explained (yet)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 09:05:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13948308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: Wendy has been in a few creepy old houses, sometimes abandoned and sometimes not.This one's nothing special.





	Forest Painting

**Author's Note:**

> *muttering to myself* hrrrmmmm...
> 
> In which the characters know more than the readers and nothing is explained (it is just a short drabble after all).
> 
> Also none of these are in order, they're just plotless filler and unneeded additions to the main story thatimayormaynoteverendupwriting.

“Hey Webber?”

“Hm?”

The boy turned away from the odd portrait he had been looking at, with its hills of forests and a little stream cutting through it, dropping from his tiptoe stance to swing around and look at his friend. 

Wendy stared intently into the cabinet, glass doors closed and a thick coating of dust visible on the china and porcelain set up inside. As Webber made his way over she scooted to the side, raising a hand to point into one of the dark corners, almost obscured by a white, flower etched plate, roses and thorns painted over its surface.

“Do you see it?”

Wendy glanced over to watch Webber learn forward, squinting his eyes and blinking in the dim lighting of the old house.

Somewhere in another corner of the house, she could just faintly hear the adults and their talking. It didn't sound loud enough to be yelling, but it was getting close.

Wendy wondered, briefly, if her uncle was causing trouble again.

“Oh, it’s a spider!” Webbers voice rose as he smiled, big teeth poking out of his mouth, and he reached forward to open the cabinets dusty doors. Wendy let him, straightening her back and rolling her shoulders, relishing the fact that she wasn't stuck in a vehicle anymore.

What Wes had was way better than that puttering old thing they've been driving around, but it still felt cramped, especially with four adults in there always yammering.

Well, actually three, since Wes didn't talk, but that's besides the point. Actions speak louder than words, and he sure did like to be as active as possible.

Wendy wondered on how long they'd be staying here, in this dinky old house in the middle of the woods, on the outskirts of some town she didn't know the name of and didn't care to. The owner hadn't seemed very open to them coming in, but they sort of had to.

The guy was important, and they needed to be here to help him.

That's how Wilson has been describing it anyway. The other lady, Willow, just says that they're here to make sure no one dies.

Which was utter bullshit in Wendys opinion, though she'd not be saying that word in front of an adult anytime soon. Death was natural, it was the end goal, and it would come when it would come. Nothing could stop death.

The flower in her pocket tickled against her side, as if to say otherwise, but she resisted taking it out.

“Ooo, she's a Widow!” Webber cooed, smiling widely as he leaned forward slightly to see the spider better, and after a moment Wendy did the same. “She has her web and everything set, waiting for a sui-tor.”

He strained the last word, said it as if he's only read the word and has never heard it be said before, but Wendy didn't comment on that. Instead, she tilted her head, trying to get a good look.

“I can't see her hourglass.”

“That's cause she's hiding.” The boy paused, looking thoughtful before nodding to himself. “She doesn't like us being so close.”

Wendy glanced over to him for only a moment, but looked away before he caught her. She tapped her chin, thinking quietly, and then an idea came to her.

“I want to see her better. Would you get her out for a bit?”

Even with her voice even and nonchalant Webber looked uncertain, hands fiddling together as he leaned back.

“I don't know…” When he glanced up and saw her face, watching him with a smidgen of excitement mixed in to help push him forward, Webber let out a tiny sigh. “Okay, but only for a moment. I don't want to make her angry.”

Wendy nodded, shuffling back to give him some room and watch him with a focused look on her face. Webber tapped his hand lightly on the cabinet, clearing his throat, and there was an odd, tense moment as he stared at the spider.

Wendy felt lightheaded, took a deep breath and it almost felt like she had been holding her breath for a long, long time, trying to not gulp in air and stay focused, stay attentive.

Something her uncle had said a few days ago had been playing in her mind for awhile. He may not have been talking to her, but it wasn't hard to pretend like she wasn't paying any attention to adult talk. After all, Webber did that all the time.

As he pulled back, cupping his hand carefully, the Black Widow crawled hesitantly through his fingers, glistening black and long, thin legs clinging to Webbers skin. Wendy eyed the spider, watched the way it carefully climbed on Webber, and when she glanced to his face her friend looked a little…

Uncertain. Confused. Worried.

“...What’s she like, Webber?”

Webber squinted down at the spider, looking even more confused, but he held it out ever so slightly to let Wendy get a good look.

“She's full, and content. She likes it here, likes the silence, and the little buggies that she catches.” The spider crawled over his wrist, many shiny eyes glinting up at Wendy, and she suppressed the shiver that was crawling up her back.

The flower in her pocket hummed, but she ignored it.

After a few minutes of silence, of observing the spider move slowly back and forth over Webbers wrist and hands, the boy suddenly turned away and stretched his hands back into the cabinet, back to the dark corner.

“She wants to go home now.” The boy frowned, face downcast and looking even more confused. “She doesn't like us all that much.”

With that he closed the glass doors with finality, Wendy clasping her hands behind her back and watching him, mind still churning along.

Webber stared for a long moment into the cabinet, at one point raising his hands to scratch through his curly hair and look even more confused, almost lost even.

Sort of like the first time they had met. Webber hadn't wanted to get in the car until he saw her, was scared of Wilson and Willow as they bombarded her uncle with questions and accusations.

Wendy had been the one to pry the boy away from her arguing uncles arm and take him aside, look him over and ask him, sincerely, if he had been going to die.

He had said no, but she was smarter than that. She listened in when no one thought she was listening, sometimes even when they thought she was asleep.

Abigail and her would do that all the time to the babysitter, pretend to sleep until the door was closed and then whisper and giggle to each other for a long while after that. No one ever caught them, and obviously no one ever would.

While the adults had argued and yelled, she had gotten Webber into the car and gave him the bag of chips Wilson had bought her that morning. Her new friend had been very, very hungry, and had calmed down a bit when she told him that the man who had gotten him here was her uncle and that he had a book that told him to help people.

He had been a little suspicious at that, telling her that he didn't need any help, he was a big boy and he was just doing what his mom told him to do. 

And then she had told him about the bridge, and after that Webber had nodded slowly and asked if they could be friends.

“Do you think there are any secrets here Webber?”

Wendy turned around, looked up at the ceiling as Webber became distracted with her question instead of the spider.

“I dunno Wendy…” Webber shuffled around and she glanced over to see him looking up at the forest painting again. “What sort of secrets would even be here?”

The questions was genuine, curious, and Wendy adopted a sly look on her face as she twisted around sharply and spoke sweetly, gesturing with exaggeration. “Old houses always have secrets, sometimes even dark, scary secrets.”

Webber furrowed his brow, disbelieving, but she continued on, a little satisfied at his reaction.

“Say, what of a secret where this house was home to an axe murderer, and his old dead wife was hidden away, rotting under the floorboards?”

Webber huffed, rolling his eyes even as he looked about himself for a moment, trying to not look unnerved.

“But it's not Wendy.” He crossed his arms, turning away to look at the painting again, though he was side eying her. “Mr. Woodie’s not a crazy axe murderer. He's nice, and letting us stay for a few days, that's what Mr. Wilson said.”

“Wilson's not that smart.” Wendy said matter of factly, straightening her stance and waving a hand with one crossing her chest, obviously copying someone whose said the same phrase before. “He'd not know an axe murderer from a, a lumberjack.”

She had to think for a moment there, trying to compare the houses owner to something besides ‘hobo’, and she thought herself quite clever with that one. Lumberjacks had axes, and could be an axe murderer along with lumbering wood.

“Don't say that!” Webber looked a little hurt from that, making Wendy stop her acting for a moment. “Mr. Wilson's very smart, he knows all about math and money and, and-”

“Alchemy?” Wendy offered, now also trying to think of something else that the self proclaimed scientist was smart at.

“Mm hm!” Webber nodded, crossing his arms and looking satisfied. “Mr. Wilson's really good at numbers and stuff, he's helping me learn to count too! So you can't just say he's dumb, cause he's not.”

“Alright, maybe he's good with that, but I don't think he's very-” Wendy thought for a moment, trying to find a good word, “-observational.”

Webber scrunched up his face, a little confused.

“It means that he doesn't observe things very good.” Wendy was guessing, but that sounded just about right anyway so it didn't matter all that much. “Sometimes he doesn't see what's right in front of him.”

“Well,” said Webber, huffing and pouting as he looked away from her, “sometimes I don't see what's right in front of me either.”

Wendy crossed her arms, watched her friend for a moment, before deciding that if Webber was going to look at the painting so much maybe she should to. Just to see if there was anything about it that was interesting, of course.

Not because she believed in this house having any secrets.

As she sidled up to Webbers side, looking up at the landscape painted above them, Webber whistled out a sound, almost boredly but very obviously not looking at her.

Wendy bumped her shoulder to his, eyes scouring the painting.

“It's alright if you can't see everything at once. That'd be a lot to see if you did.” Webber didn't say anything, just continued to glower at the painting without really seeing it. Wendy rethought over what she said.

“Numbers isn't everything Webber.” That wasn't what she should say, but Wendy knew she was right.

Mr. Higgsbury did have a hard time understanding things that she could pick up almost instantly. Some things just made more sense that way, but Wilson didn't like believing in them all that much.

“But you know how Willow helps Wilson sometimes?”

Webber took a moment to nod, face slowly softening as he thought.

“And Mr. Maxwell, and Mr. Wes, and-”

Wendy cut him off, turning to look at him. “So if you can't see something that's right in front of your nose,” she smiled, a small one, ignoring the odd burning in her pocket with the flower, “then I'll help you see it, okay?”

The moment Webber nodded, Wendy swung her arm up and pointed to a particular spot in the painting, one that made her feel a little lightheaded when she looked at it.

“Did you see that when you first looked?”

Webber squinted his eyes, stood on the tips of his toes to look closer, and when he did he almost fell backwards as he stumbled away.

“T-those are scary!”

“It's just wolves.” Wendy narrowed her eyes as the big furry painted shapes, with huge sharp teeth and glowing white blobs for eyes. “And there's not that many, see? Only three of them.”

Webber shook his head, then scooted back up to look closer. “I never even saw them!”

“Like I said,” Wendy put her hands on her hips, stubbornly ignoring the weight in her pocket, “I'll help you see the things that you can't see the first time.”

She glanced over to the cabinet, mind turning and frowning slightly as she remembered the spider and what she had overheard, but she decided after a moment to not bring it up. It's not like it would affect Webber, and she was sure it wouldn't affect her either.

Turning to look up at the painting and it's oddly scary wolves, Wendy hummed.

Spiders can't eat people anyways, so there was nothing to worry about.


End file.
